


The Man Who Felt Too Much

by BookLoverStoryWriter



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Character Study, Gen, I wrote this a while ago and thought I might as well post it, John's take on Sherlock, M/M, Memoir, Really just a fic, john watson's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 07:34:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5906563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookLoverStoryWriter/pseuds/BookLoverStoryWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson has lived with the great Sherlock Holmes and has documented his cold, calculating self in his stories/blog posts. But what does he really think of the Consulting Detective?</p>
<p>Really just a little character study that I wrote 'bout a year ago, and as I was rifling through old computer files, thought I might as well post it. Was written from the perspective of a Johnlock shipper, but can be considered gen.</p>
<p>Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Man Who Felt Too Much

**The Memoirs of John Watson.**

**A character study of Sherlock Holmes**.

Sherlock Holmes. The name itself bears the tone of mystery. In all my years of knowing Sherlock, I still have not understood the mystery of him completely. But here are some of the things that I know to be true.

Sherlock likes to define himself as a high-functioning sociopath; I know that this is not the case. Sherlock Holmes is not an unfeeling sociopath, but rather, an amazing, wonderful, extraordinary man… who. feels. too. much.

Every day he sees and hears and processes thousands of bits of information. His mind and senses take in everything around him. It’s a sensory overload. And however great his mind may be, it’s too much.

Most times my friendship is enough for him to power through, but sometimes… when his mind is scratched raw and there’s nothing to keep his magnificent brain working, he falls back into the habits he had before Lestrade came.

And I try to save him, but he drowns in the depths of his own conscience, losing himself in his mind-palace.

His mind. One of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. But while beautiful, it can be a storming disaster. Threating everything in his wake.

Beautiful, yet deadly.

A terrible privilege.

Sherlock likes to have people think that he’s uncaring and selfish. He feels as though he protects everyone that way.

Unfortunately Moriarty saw past this charade. He saw, just like I do every day that Sherlock cares more than anyone could ever imagine.

And those he does care about, he latches onto with a fierce desire to protect and keep safe.

The biggest truth about Sherlock is that… He loves. He loves wholly and desperately and to the full extent of his being.

And the crux of the matter is that… it scares him.

Not only emotion or love itself, though that is part of the problem.

What scares him is the idea that love does that to him, or rather, causes him to do. His love is so encompassing that it- it-…

I don’t know, it’s so hard to describe. Like tasting a color or catching the wind.

I guess what scares him is that emotion… It doesn’t make sense. There’s no way to classify it or give It solidity.

And his love is such a strong emotion, such a powerful force that it’s easier for him to lock it away than try to understand what It truly is.

Sherlock is infinite. He is as vast as the entirety of the universe itself. Not just his stature, but the way he calls your attention when he explains the crime, it’s as if the world stops just to hear this brilliant man speak.

Greg Lestrade once said to me that Sherlock is a great man, and that someday if we’re lucky he might just be a good one.

At the time, I could only stare at the man in disbelief and disappointment. I didn’t understand why he couldn’t see what was so plain to me.

We are infinitely lucky.

Sherlock Holmes is a good man already.

He just has a hard time showing it.

If only the world could see.

If only it could see.

If only it could understand his brilliance, his grace, his strength.

If only it could recognize the sheer awe that a man like Sherlock Holmes is in need of.

Something that I don’t understand is why he let me In. Why he decided to heal an old army doctor’s limp. But regardless of this. It shows that the so called heartless Sherlock Holmes has a soul.

A soul so beautiful and unconditionally amazing that one cannot help but be jealous.

I was so alone, and he- he brought me to the light.

All the words in the world could not come close to fully describing the brilliance that is Sherlock Holmes.

And though I’ve known him for years I still don’t think that I’ll ever stop being completely entranced by him.

And so I, John Watson, believe that Sherlock Holmes is the best man of us all.

The truest Hero

The most amazing angel

The greatest of them all.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked my second (well really my first) foray into writing, and feel free to comment, I love comments and if you have any advice or criticism I would love to hear:) But please, no flames.
> 
> Thanks Guys!!!


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